My Name is Searching, Since You Stole My Only Soul
by Illyriarocks
Summary: Dismissed by the CIA, a lost and confused Sharon Carter has been assigned to shadow an equally lost Bucky in the Tennessee mountains. Embittered due to the end of SHIELD, Sharon expects to find an emotionless assassin, but instead discovers a kindred spirit of sorts. While bonding, the duo find themselves stalked by the mysterious Crossbones Killer.
1. Chapter 1: Sharon

"**My Name is Searching, Since You Stole My Only Soul"**

SHARON I

Sharon Carter had quite the illustrious career. She used to be a decorated S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and was highly regarded for being the niece of the woman who started the organization. Nepotism, sure, but she didn't mind. Part of her enjoyed the privileges her biology afforded her. One such privilege was being assigned protection detail to Steve Rogers, a man she and many of her friends and coworkers loved and respected immensely. That was, until her personal hero unmasked the horrific truth: her beloved place of employment was in fact a reborn WWII Nazi organization bent on achieving a fascist version of " worldwide peace." On a more personal level, she learned that Brock Rumlow, a one-time fling at the start of their careers and her closest friend at work, was secretly a terrorist. S.H.I.E.L.D. may have been a corrupt terrorist organization under the surface, but it was still S.H.I.E.L.D. to her and countless other agents who were unaffiliated with Pierce and his cronies and unaware of the malevolent on-goings. Coulson and Hand just to name a few. Romanoff especially. Sharon took a job at the CIA, but after a few weeks that, too, crumbled. Her S.H.I.E.L.D. training told her that it was okay to bend a few rules to get results when the situation called for it. She'd tortured a suspect to near death to obtain information about the whereabouts of the Winter Soldier for Steve. Her superiors didn't take kindly to that and almost had her arrested had Tony Stark and Maria Hill not interceded on her behalf. Everything she lost was, in large part, due to Steve's involvement with the government task force. And part of her resented Captain America for that. A small part, but a part nonetheless. Somewhat ironically, the man who had a large part in taking down her place of employment was the only man who'd give her a job. Currently, Sharon found herself sitting in the darkened kitchen of a house in the Tennessee mountain range. Secluded, existentially and physically. Much like her current quarry. Of all the ops she'd carried out while an agent, Sharon never pictured herself on a mission from Captain America to shadow an amnesiac, existentially confused super-soldier with a bionic arm for over a month. Through her observations, Sharon found that the man known as James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was largely absent. In his place was an empty shell of a man who only knew how to take orders and eliminate targets efficiently and stealthily. A machine, almost. A glove HYDRA could insert whomever they wished into. A hammer with which the fascists could destroy their opponents. Sharon almost pitied him, then remembered that he was responsible for the death of Director Fury. Her grip tightened on the forty caliber pistol she hid under the table.


	2. Chapter 2: Coffee Talk

"**Coffee Talk"**

_There's an unbelievably gorgeous woman in my kitchen, _the Winter Soldier mused, hiding in the shadows of the hallway. His programming (_brainwashing? Wasn't that really what it was, Buck? Who is Bucky again?)-_ no, his training- had prepared him for just such an eventuality. S.H.I.E.L.D. He'd recognize the hard-ass demeanor anywhere. Every instinct was yelling, shrieking, at him to just shoot this woman and be done with it, but instead he slowly sauntered into the kitchen.

"You're trespassing," the Winter Soldier smirked. "I've killed for far less."

"If you wanted me dead, I would be," she countered.

"True. You've been tailing me for weeks now."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has an interest in you."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone. Captain America sent you, didn't he?"

"So what if he did?"

The soldier collapsed into the chair opposite this too-composed blonde. He noticed her fingers flinching, her index finger tightening around the trigger of her weapon.

"I once punched a hole clean through a man's chest," he remarked, glancing to his bionic arm. "I would suggest dropping the gun," he added coldly. "Name?"

"Agent 13," she blinked.

_Why the hell would he care?_

"Captain America called me a name once."

"James Buchanan-"

He grabbed the nape Agent 13's neck and shoved her face into the tabletop.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Agent Sharon Carter…"

"Carter?"

"_He talks about you all the time," Bucky called out to Peggy Carter, the woman of his best friend's affections._

"_Does he," her lilting accent inquired from halfway down the bar counter._

"_She's really something, Buck, a real good shot," he laughed._

"_Oh."_

_Her expression crumbled._

"_I'm kidding, lady. He's got the hots for ya, I say! I tell him, "You like this cookie, pipsqueak, ya oughta tell her before you ship out!"_

"_He… 'likes' me, Mr. Barnes?"_

"_Heck yeah, he does," Bucky chortled._

The soldier's eyes returned to focus as Sharon struggled to get free.

"Sharon Carter…"

"That's my name, don't wear it out. Now if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be able to breathe more easily."

His grip loosened and she slid back against her own chair.

"Enough chit-chat, Sharon. Why are you here? You have one minute."

"Steve and I heard about your little trip through Pennsylvania last week."

"It was a food run."

"You castrated a guy for looking at you funny and then shot up a store because the manager thought you were high."

"It was Tuesday. I don't like Tuesdays. Still haven't answered my question. Ten seconds."

"We're trying to get you back, Barnes," she blurted.

He just stared at her, his dead eyes making her squirm. He loved watching targets squirm. They know they're about to due but not how or where their killer is. The sense of authority, the raw power, it gave him was awe-inspiring.

"Have you ever held a man's life in your hand, Sharon Carter?"

"Haven't had to."

"Awfully vague. I'm getting a very standoffish vibe."

"I'm on assignment. Small talk isn't my first priority, Barnes."

He slammed his hand of flesh on the table.

"Stop calling me that!"

His uninvited guest straightened, tensing, fearful.

"Do you really think you can take me in," he challenged. He smiled then, and almost immediately his face went slack again.

_Winter Soldier doesn't smile, he doesn't do small talk. He gets orders, and he follows them until the objective is attained. But this isn't a mission, is it? This is a pretty girl who seems very damaged wanting to help you. Help you remember who you are? But why does that matter? Whoever the hell is Bucky guy is, he's immaterial. But Bucky is me! I'm Bucky! No, I'm the Winter Soldier…_

_Perhaps I am both._

"I can try," she accepted.

"You have one week to convince me that with you and the Star-Spangled Idealist is where I belong. After that, you're dead."

"Deal, Barnes. You got yourself a deal."


	3. Chapter 3: Day Two

"**Day Two"**

Sam Wilson was not usually given to working with former government agents. In his experience, they were often designated "former" for a _very, __**VERY **_good reason. These people were the exception. After the explosive end of Project Insight and the dismantling of S.H.I.E.L.D., Sam had instantly offered to help Steve find the lost-and-roaming Winter Soldier. He could see that the man who the Soldier used to be had meant a lot to Steve, and Sam was always one to help the downtrodden and confused. Despite his avowed rejection of his hard-lined Lutheran upbringing in favor of a more humanistic lifestyle, he found the values introduced during his youth never failed to guide him even in the darkest of times. For that, he was grateful. These values immediately sent out a "these people are the good guys" message when he first met Steve and Natasha, their super heroics aside. Genuinely good souls, trying to get past their emotional baggage, trying to make the world a better place. That stuck out to Sam, and so he endeavored to make these last few weeks of searching count. His current assignment was surveillance. In the woods. In a massive black truck.

"Yeah, so inconspicuous," Sam grumbled to himself.

The door flew open and Sam whipped out his gun, swiveling around his chair. Sharon's hands flew up.

"Don't scare me like that," Sam gasped.

"Sorry. Find anything useful?"

Sharon directed her attention to the huge monitor in front of Sam. Various versions of Bucky's house's interior were at the forefront. Hidden cameras. They switched to thermal, and then to some other setting whose name escaped the Carter lass. Sam noticed the confusion on her face.

"Sharon, you okay," he inquired.

"Yes."

A lie, and they both knew it. Sharon had been forgetting small details for the last few days. Bucky's age and the vague war stories that Steve had told her. The names of things. Little trifles, but unlike Sharon.

"You haven't been straight with me since you met Barnes the other night. Where's your head at?"

"In the game. I had better get back. He's expecting me to give him another pep talk soon."

"Report back to me every ninety minutes, Sharon. Steve won't be too happy if anything happens to you."

"I know," her eyes flickered with a sense of pride as she hopped out of the vehicle.

Bucky awaited the frazzled woman in the living room. He drummed his flesh-and-blood fingers on the arm of his cushioned chair.

"Don't bother denying it. I know you and Sam Wilson have been spying on me since long before you arrived."

"Barnes-"

Bucky rose, his metal hand clenching. Threatening. Imposing. Constantly between terrifying rage and mechanical serenity, much like Bucky himself. He stepped toward her, smirking as Sharon gripped her gun a little tighter. Sick pleasure. He reveled in the idea of her trying to defend herself against him.

"The idea of that scenario," Bucky grinned, "excites me to no end. Perhaps it can be a little present to the good Captain. A reminder of with whom he is dealing."

The psychotic smile he flashed shook Sharon to her very core. It was something out of a horror movie.

She backed up.

He moved forward.

Sharon felt her spine hit the wall.

Bucky's metal arm snatched the weapon from her grasp before she could process what was happening and tossed it aside.

Her breathing hitched.

Bucky leaned in, his cold eyes boring into her own. So close the two agents were. Their lips inches apart…

"I don't take lies all that well, Miss Carter," Bucky growled.

He sighed. Smiled a genuine smile. Stepped back. Sat back down.

"What the hell," Sharon spat.

"Had to make sure you weren't wired. I'm rather surprised that you are not. Then again, I am sure that the not-so-hidden hidden cameras do the required job."

He gave a mock salute to the nearest one he could make out.

"You need to be better about your surveillance. It's crap. Especially for a former government agent."

"They were installed prior to your arrival. The previous tenants were paranoid," Sharon explained.

"So S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't above hiring hackers, huh?"

"No, we were not. Said hacker is actually quite gifted. Used to be a part of an organization called Rising Tide."

"I am familiar with them. I kneecapped their leader after he mouthed off to me."

"How surprising," Sharon deadpanned.

"She does have a sense of humor, however dry," Bucky cried.

He punched the air like someone who'd just won a bet with lottery-sized stakes and stuck his tongue out at thin air. The look that earned him was not flattering.

"You have something to say, Carter?"

"No."

"Good. You lost a day already. Six more days to convince me."

"Five."

"I'm being generous and not counting all of today."

"Why are you being so-"

"You need to get back to Steve so I can sulk in peace and try to figure out why I am who I am, maybe how to fix it. I don't like wasting a good woman's time, and I can see that you're a good woman. Also, you're knocked up."

"Excuse me?"

"You're pregnant. I noticed the guarded way you have been carrying yourself around me, much more so than a normal person would behave when alone with me. I'm assuming Steve doesn't know, assuming that it _is_ his. Also, your boobs-"

"Hey! Thought you were a classic gentleman? What gives?"

"I am a gracious host, or at least I was and I wanna be again. Gotta make your stay entertaining, don't I? Adopting a modern attitude seemed to be the best way to do that. Now come on. Sit me down. Talk to me. Convince me some more."

This conversation was being observed by a second individual, one with much less noble intentions for the pair in the cabin. He gazed at Sharon and Bucky, in turn, through his crosshairs.

"I can be patient," Crossbones sighed as he wiped blood onto his pant leg.

Behind him, a trussed-up and gagged Sam coughed pathetically.


End file.
